Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, November 24th, 1813.—Having a little leisure, I begin my weekly journal. The weather continues beautiful, and I generally get my hour’s walk, and my hour’s ride daily. A brig from Dartmouth sold off an immense stock of good English moulds yesterday, in the morning, at 2s. 6d. a pound, by order from head-quarters, and about five tons of potatoes, besides quantities of porter, ale, beef, cheese, &c. The scramble of officers on board to see and buy would have astonished you not a little. We have also some good white wine.
Since our move from the mountains our men are all behaving much better: they were becoming very bad; and desertion, even from the English to the French, was frequent. The temptation of the old gentleman in the high mountains was too much for the men. It has now almost ceased. I hope, therefore, when we are a little quiet, and my arrears are cleared off, that I shall have much less to do. The reports here now are that Bonaparte’s aide-de-camp is at Bayonne, and that he himself is expected. If so we may probably have some work to do here again, unless he has been obliged merely to show himself here to convince his army that he is still alive and well.
We had a little affair yesterday. Some of the light division were ordered to drive in the French pickets in one place where they were too forward, and our men being too zealous, pushed too far. In trying to prevent this, a fine officer of the 43rd was taken, and a lieutenant badly wounded, and some men lost. The only annoyance I suffer at present in my quarters arises from the multiplicity of inhabitants, namely, three old women, seven children, three dogs, two cats, and a fair allowance of fleas, whom this late fine weather has revived. We have lately had an arrival at Passages of a hundred and fifty oxen from Ireland for the army, and are promised the same supply weekly. This will do something; but our consumption is, I believe, about a thousand a week. Our forage in this nook of France is as bare as in the neighbouring parts of Spain; every field is eaten close down, and all straw of corn and maize consumed. I sent twelve miles for straw yesterday, and the mules have returned to-day empty. I mean now to try bruised furze, to mix with their Indian corn, so as to hold out until some more hay shall reach us from England.
November 25th.—I have just heard that about two thousand of the inhabitants returned here last night, but Soult would not suffer them to carry much with them.
November 26th.—There was no time for more yesterday, and to-day I have nothing to add. I have still not heard anything from you later than the 3rd, but we have papers here to the 13th. I cannot understand how this has occurred. Through France we have news still later, and have heard of the surrender of Davoust’s corps at Hamburg, on terms of not serving for a year and a day. It is to be hoped that the terms may be kept. I had a droll malheur again to-day. Riding my pony into the sea, into about six inches water, to wash his legs, a wave came, the sand gave way, and he sunk up to his middle, so that my legs were up to the calf in sand. I jumped off, and went over his head to run out, fearing that he could not rise. We thus both got safely out. The poor pony much more frightened than I was.
I conclude that everything goes on well, for Lord Wellington and his gentlemen were out to-day with the hounds. He told me that I kept him up reading Courts-martial until twelve o’clock at night or one in the morning; and this every night. I hope, however, that this will not last long. The Prince of Orange has got a complaint in his eyes, but I believe only a cold, and he seems better. Nearly all our great men except Lord Wellington have been ill.
Send me some law news, and good, for Lord Wellington expects me to tell him who all the new judges are to be, &c., and is very fond of discussing legal subjects. At first I was generally right in my speculations: but I have now no means of knowing how things are going on unless you keep up my credit; it must not be, however, by loose reports.
I have a poor young Commissary, B——, under charges, who has, I think, been very ill used by a Spanish alcalde. I fought his battle with Lord Wellington to-day to get him released from arrest. He is very well spoken of, and said to support his two sisters. Can he be a brother of the Miss B——’s whom you know? I detected the Spanish General F—— in a little bit of a fib on this subject. His excuse for not answering my letter for eight days was, that it had been delayed in the post. I complained, and his receipt for the letter was produced the day after it was sent—this on the back of the cover.
Sunday, November 29th.—Still no news, and no accounts from England. We are all anxiety. I have just returned from church at the drum-head, on the sands by the sea. Two brigades of guards present in their best, and white trousers, &c., and Lord Wellington and his staff here. It was rather cold work. The weather is beginning to change again, I fear, for rain, just as the roads were becoming passable. You have no conception how soon fifteen thousand sharp-footed heavy-laden mules in rain, cut up a road in this country, even when at first tolerably good. We have been amused with Cobbett’s attributing all Bonaparte’s misfortunes to his being grafted into the old stock. If he can now manage well he may, I think, still get his little king Pepin graft to thrive in France, and beat Mr. Knight and our gardeners. The true cause of all is, however, that the morale of the people of Europe is changed. It was France, army and people, against mere armies and bad governments, whilst all the people in Europe were indifferent at the least. This is now reversed; and it is now a mere French army against every people and army; and Frenchmen at least quite indifferent.